


Would You Still Love Me?

by Becca_Lyn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, Dark Harry, F/M, Harry isn't a good person in this, He is really bad ok, If gore or death isn't your thing this isn't the fic for you, Insane Harry, M/M, Multi, Murder, Nagini is a mom character, Possible Mpreg, sex in later chapters i'm sure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2019-08-01 15:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16286813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becca_Lyn/pseuds/Becca_Lyn
Summary: Harry Potter has finally snapped and let the abuse and torture get to him. Harry Potter has gone insane. The moment he turned 17 he killed his remaining family and disappeared. It is up to the Dark Lord and his closest to help Harry heal and take his revenge on those who dared push him to this point.REWRITE FROM FANFICTION.NET Now being translated to Spanish.





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is really dark in earlier chapters. If you are easily disturbed or bothered, I would skip this one. As stated, this is a rewrite of a fanfiction I started years ago and never got around to finishing, so if you came from the original, be warned. This is still darker than that. But, if you can get past all that, welcome! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> If anyone has any questions, or just wants to talk to me in general about any of my fics you can reach me at my tumblr: @ fairytales-andfuckery
> 
> I look forward to reading everyone's comments and questions!
> 
> This fanfiction is now being translated to [Spanish](https://www.wattpad.com/story/180284960).

Pain was a terrible thing. The feeling was pure, undefeated by any other sense as it radiated through his body. Bruises and cuts coated his too thin body, much too small for a 16 year old. 

“Not for much longer,” His voice was raspy, almost as if he had been recently choked, “In a few minutes, just a few more, I’ll be 17. I can leave this place.” He spoke, smug, replying to his thoughts only he could hear. Staring at a blank ceiling with no other sound would make you do that. 

He could feel it; the settling of his core, the curse keeping him from doing magic outside of school without trouble slowly disappearing, his upcoming age rushing at him with the ticking of a clock. 

The smugness wasn’t all him, he knew. He could feel the sick joy coming from his “family.” The joy that he was old enough to be kicked out, that they wouldn’t have to “care” for him anymore, even though they also lost their communal punching bag. Then there was that little spot in the back of his mind, the voice, somehow connected to Voldemort. Voldemort was smug too, the spell keeping him from his target was soon to end. 

Then there was his own smugness. He could finally  **leave** this place, he could take his few belongings, leave this shit family and fake friends, and be safe. Yes, he would be leaving his few true friends and Hogwarts. He was sure Hogwarts wouldn’t accept him after what he was about to do.

Giggling, he lifted his hands, pressing the palms roughly against his closed eyes, a wide grin spreading his chapped lips. He could laugh forever at the idea, ridding not only himself of the horrid family, but the whole world. They deserved what was coming to them. He didn’t know who he would start with, but he knew who was last. 

Petunia, his loving Aunt, the only one that was his actual blood. She may not of ever actually caused him physical harm, but she was the one who withheld food, that forced him to cook and clean. She was the one who stood by and watched what his uncle and cousin did to him. She would be last, after seeing her family, her darling husband and little “Duddiekins” die by his hands. 

He laughed again, his legs kicking up and down against his “bed.” Three minutes now. . . Now two. . . And finally one. 

As his core finally settled into adulthood, he twisted suddenly, sitting up on the cot, his feet pressing firmly against the floor. He pulled his fingers down his face, scratching with his blunt nails as he felt something else in his mind  **_S N A P_ ** out of place. Bouncing a few times, he stood, his body slumping, moving slow and awkward. 

“I-” he paused, licking blood off of his lips, “I am Harry Potter. I am now 17, an adult in the wizarding world. I am free of this place.”

Laughing once more, he jumped a few times, reveling in his new found freedom and opening the door to his room without lifting a finger. The carpet felt plush against his feet, one of the few body parts that weren’t singing in pain as he stepped. He scraped his hands against the walls of the hallway, dragging dirt, or was that dried blood?, across it. Aunt Petunia would be cross.

Harry would have skipped down the hall towards the stairs, if Dudley hadn’t chosen that moment to leave his room. He looked shocked at seeing Harry, opening his mouth to state his concern, but Harry refused to give him the chance. Rushing forward, Harry pushed the fat boy back into the room, his hand clamped against his mouth. 

They tumbled to the ground, Harry feeling Dudley’s head crash against the ground as he crouched on top of him. He sat there a moment, waiting for Dudley’s wits to return, wanting him to feel everything. 

“Now, now Dudley. You wouldn’t want to make this harder on me, would you?” His grin was terrifying, he could see his reflection in Dudley’s quickly widening eyes. He was shaken, confused, and that was exactly what Harry needed. Usually Dudley could quickly over power him- not now. Not when Harry had his full magical strength and was filled with excited adrenaline. 

Harry let Dudley begin to resist, begin to fight him, letting him have hope, before moving in. He moved slowly, his face leaning down against Dudley’s neck, almost as if they were lovers, before sinking his teeth into the skin there. He felt every rip, every tear as Dudley screamed in shock and pain. Blood rushed into his mouth, and he pulled back quickly, skin still latched firmly in his teeth. 

Harry closed his eyes, bathing in his cousin’s screams. Blood flooded from his mouth as he spit skin and muscle on Dudley’s face. Blood was flowing quickly, Dudley’s fighting slowing. 

“So, I did bite deep enough. I almost wasn’t sure, your neck is so fat. . . But, your artery is split! How beautiful. Probably the only time you’ve ever been pretty.” Harry laughed, watching Dudley convulse on the ground. He wanted to watch all of it, but sadly, he didn’t have time. It would have been hard for the others not to hear what transpired. 

He could already hear steps from the staircase, light and smooth ones. He could tell it was Petunia before he heard her voice asking Dudley what was wrong, before she made it to the doorway, before she started screaming. Harry turned just in time to see her sprinting clumsily back down the stairs. 

Harry casually stood, stepping almost gracefully down the stairs, the spilt blood already rejuvenating him. He silently locked all of the doors, not letting there be a chance his prey would escape. And, there they were, huddled by the front door together, trying to make it budge.

Petunia screamed again when Harry arrived at the bottom of the stairs, Vernon moving to shield his wife behind him. Tutting disappointedly, Harry sat on the couch, staring at his Aunt and Uncle.

“Uncle Vernon, you're not the one I want here. I just want the bitch that let all of this happen,” Harry spoke, his voice showing no sign of the insanity, the rage, burning through his skull. His legs crossed, almost instinctively as Vernon seemed to actually be thinking. For once. 

“Fine! You can have her, just let me live,” Vernon pushed Petunia forward, her voice suddenly becoming a disbelieving squeak. She stood, shaking as Harry looked them over.

“I never said that, Uncle Vernon. There’s no peace for someone who would give up someone else to save their own ass,” Harry smiled, almost sadly, as he lifted his hand in the direction of the fat man. He felt his magic constrict around the man’s throat, squeezing with no chance of release. 

Harry looked peaceful as he watched Vernon’s face quickly turn blue, then violet. Blood vessels popped in the man’s eyes as he fell to his knees, his hands scratching at his own throat as he gasped for any air possible. Harry held him there, even after he stopped struggling, even after his eyes exploded in a mass of blood and gore. Harry held him there until he finally had his fill of seeing the abusive shit with a purple tinted face and lack of eyeballs.

He felt a great thrill in seeing the body slump and sag against the floor, blood spreading against the once fine carpet, but anger flooded his senses when he noticed his darling aunt was no longer in the room, having run out as soon as the torture started. 

Harry followed her to the kitchen, smiling in amusement when he noticed her hiding in the corner, her arms outstretched towards him with a knife. The sad thing was, he knew he didn’t have long before the order showed up for him, so he knew he couldn’t drag it out as long as he wanted. 

He didn’t say anything as he forced her to lift her arms and plunge the knife into her own stomach. Nothing, as she moved her arms mechanically, her face and voice showing the true her as the knife slid past her skin again and again. Blood splattered against the walls, her arms moving more and more violently, her screams turning into gurgling mumbles as she began to slump, her body finally giving in to the pain. 

Harry released a joyous shout, tears finally falling as he knew he was finally free of the horrid family. They were gone, would never come for him. No one could, where he was going. He was free, free to be himself, to let his true colors shine. He was free to let the voices telling him what to do to take over. He didn’t need this world anymore.

His laughter stopped as soon as it began, his face falling flat, removing all emotion. He had just killed the only family he had left, and could never return to his friends. He was lost, but at least he knew where to go.

Pops sounded outside, the sign of apparition. It was now or never for him as he escaped out the back door, climbed over the fence, and sprinted with bare feet into the woods. He knew where to go, a place he had hidden a few times before, a place no one else knew about.

He let his thoughts release themselves, moving in autopilot as his feet pounded against the muddy ground, sticks and rocks poking and slicing his skin. He didn’t care about that anymore. He was home. 


	2. Shack-led

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter two! I got some really good comments and they really inspired me, so I actually got this one finished early. I really want this to be a weekly upload (every Thursday/Friday) so keep it up guys lol.

Harry had always enjoyed the outdoors. It was his only reprieve from the tortures of his family, when he would be sent out to garden, or he could run away quickly enough to his hideout in the woods. It was always peaceful outside; no annoying bastards wanting him to give up his life for a cause he didn’t believe in, plenty of food, and there was always a snake to give him company if he looked in the right places. 

Even in his little shack, Harry was happy. It was obviously a little lean-to made for some less than legal activities, guessing from the vials and odd instruments he had discovered when he found it in the first place. Harry had since cleaned it up - mostly - leaving a thin, hole infested blanket and shattered mirror with large shards missing. 

Now, Harry sat in one of the corners of the shack, knees to his chest as he rocked, staring wide eyed into the mirror. It was oddly beautiful seeing the different versions of his face, as if he was seeing the different broken pieces of his mind. In the corner was the smiley Golden Boy of Gryffindor, easy-going and proud. In another section, The-Boy-Who-Lived, war ready and battle worn. In this section, a child, one easy to play make believe and escape the world.

And in the middle of it all, Harry, lost in the chaos. 

“ _ What is it you see, Hatchling, _ ” A quiet hiss brought Harry out of his thoughts, his eyes breaking the stare for only a moment to glance at the lovely snake easing its way beside him. Her black coils were difficult to see on the shadowed soil, but the single gold colored ring around her head let Harry know where she was facing.

He thought, quiet a moment, holding his hand outwards and allowing her smooth body to climb to his shoulder. Her face bumped against his cheek gently, awkwardly, as her tongue flicked out and scented him.

“ _ I do not know, Adda _ ,” Parseltongue came to him easier than English, ever since Adda and her fellow nest-mates had taken him in, helped keep him warm and feed him, treating him as one of their own. “ _ I simply felt as if I should look, like I might find something. . . or someone. Do not worry so for me. _ ”

Adda, the lovely creature, was the worrying mother hen type (if you could refer to a snake as a mother hen), and though she wasn’t the only one that referred to Harry as Hatchling, he could tell she  _ meant _ it.  It kind of made Harry happy. He knew she wasn’t his mother, obviously, but to have someone doting on him in some fashion, it was nice. 

Harry lightly rubbed his cheek against Adda’s strong body, hearing her hiss in amusement at his childish action. It was peaceful here, in his small shack, with Adda and her nest-mates. They were all friendly, and didn’t mind when Harry hunted with them. Weren’t bothered when he had to cook his food (though to be perfectly honest, occasionally he just didn’t care and ate whatever he had caught raw).

With a quiet, hissing sigh Adda wiggled out of Harry’s grasp, back down to the floor. “ _ I must go hunting, Hatchling. I ask that you remain here, there is something off about tonight. _ ”

Harry was already nodding, having sensed something off himself. The birds were quiet, the woods still. Nature itself seemed to feel what was wrong in the air. It was leaving him a little restless, but his need to stay safe was more than his need to move, to escape.

Little Adda had already left, leaving Harry to his thoughts in the shack once more. The mirror shards flashed at him, reminding him who he was, what he could do. His body shivered in the dark at the memories. He was lucid enough for the moment, the insanity that had racked his weak body sitting quietly in the back of his mind. 

He would need to change location soon, he knew. It was too dangerous to stay in one place too long, too easy for someone to track him down. He didn’t want to leave, rather enjoying his life with Adda and the others, but he knew deep down what would happen if he didn’t. Dumbledore or his goons would come for him, torture him some more and force him to fight for something he didn’t believe in.

He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Already he had a plan. Tomorrow he would hunt extravagantly, gathering supplies. He would, of course, ask Adda to go with him, in which she would probably say no, and then he would apparate away. It probably wouldn’t work, would probably kill him, but it was better than nothing. Then when he got there he would make a little lean-to in the woods. Nothing fancy, just enough to get by until he had to leave again.

It would be fine. He could live like that for a while, and when he was done with it, there was always Voldemort. He could just walk up to the man, and it would be over with. . . hopefully. There was always the chance of torture, but at least Voldemort wouldn’t force him to live a life of hell.

Harry almost laid down, prepared for a nap when he heard scurrying, the sound of footsteps and a very distinct popping sound. He could hear his friends slithering around, upset as he was, as he crouched low to the ground and listened closer to the sounds of the forest. He almost decided he imagined the popping when Adda came slithering inside, looking fearful, her voice strained. 

“ _ Hatchling! Hatchling, you must leave. There are strange men in the woods, nearing our home! You must hurry, now! _ ”

Adda moved, almost invisible, in the darkness, so quickly that Harry’s acclimated eyes barely noticed her. Harry almost reached out to comfort her, but stopped himself when he saw the tenseness in her coils.

“ _ Strange men, Adda? What do you mean _ ,” though he knew she would never purposely harm him, Harry didn’t wish to be accidentally struck out against. He continued to keep his distance, speaking calmly, though the fear was causing the screaming insanity to bubble up inside him once more. 

“ _ They wear darkness, with symbols of death on their faces. They carry the scent of despair and danger. I fear they are here for you, Hatchling, you must run! _ ”

Harry’s body stilled.  _ Death Eaters. _ Voldemort had found him first, of course he had. That damn brain connection, or whatever. Now he was trapped again, his mind twisting and turning as it tried to lead him down safer destinations, away from the fear, the  **p a i n** . 

“ _ Hatchling, hurry! _ ”

Harry felt Adda’s concern for him in his bones, rocking his core. His plans were ruined, he was too weak to apparate at the moment, and he had no idea where to go. He had only one option, face Voldemort head on, and hope he could escape.

“ _ Goodbye, Adda. Thank you for taking care of me. _ ”

It felt like a light switch in Harry’s mind, as his body tensed ready to run and fight, his thoughts shut out everything but destroy and save yourself. His magic curled around him protectively, almost like a shield of pure energy. A snake ready to strike at the first meal.

Easing the door open, Harry glanced into the dark woods,  **sensing** , but not seeing the Death Eaters around him. He could even feel Voldemort’s eyes upon him from wherever he hid in the shadows. Harry was tempted to turn around and close the door, make them come to him, but instead he stood his ground. He wouldn’t go anywhere without some kind of bloodshed. 

They deserved it for scaring Adda and making his life  _ hell _ .

“Harry Potter! We know you are there, come with us now, and we swear not to harm you.” It was Voldemort’s voice, calm and rich, pressing into Harry’s mind.

“ _ Oh, fuck off! Go rot somewhere,  _ **_Tom_ ** _! _ ” Harry didn’t know he was still speaking parseltongue, his mind clouded with rage at the ridiculous statement. Not harm him? That’s what everyone did,  _ everyone _ . 

He hear a whispered command, and already knew what was coming, his body crouching low to the ground. Bodies started to appear, rushing at him from the darkness, and trying to grab at him. Harry could have laughed at the muggle means of attack, if he were not intent on protecting himself by separating limbs from bodies.

It was a rather interesting sound, the crunch of magic slicing through bone, warm blood spurting from the new wound, and the screams of the witches and wizards. A particularly enjoyable one, was one that Harry missed an arm and instead tore through a Death Eater’s stomach, organs popping out grotesquely. The screams were music to Harry’s ears. 

“ _ Leave me alone. You should have just left me alone! _ ” There was no way the screaming and wriggling forms around him could understand his words, yet he screamed them. He screamed them, shouting them in his mind, hoping,  _ knowing _ that Voldemort could hear him over the chaos.

Harry took a moment to laugh, breathe, and watch the squirming mass around him. The standing Death Eaters still stood in the shadows, watching with confusion and disgust at the scene before them. Harry believed he had won, they were silent, watching him in fear, as he had stood in their shoes in previous years of his life.

His celebratory moment was cut short when he felt hands on him from behind, lifting him. Harry shot out with his magic, but the Death Eaters remained, holding him still as he shrieked in fury and pain at their touch. He shook violently, fighting to get them off, but they remained, shushing him, trying to calm  _ him _ . 

Harry released a loud pained scream when he felt cool fingers pressing at his temples, gently leaning his head back. He still shook violently, baring his teeth and glaring as red met green in a gentle stare.

“ _ Rest now, Harry _ .” 

And all Harry knew was darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fanfiction.net account is Becca Maddox and the title of the story is the same, Would You Still Love Me, for those who are interested in digging that up.  
> Like always, for any questions and occasional updates hit me up on tumblr : @ fairytales-andfuckery :)


	3. Homey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you guys so much for your overwhelming support of this fanfic so far! I am really proud of how much better I've gotten since the original, and I hope you guys continue to enjoy it.  
> I'm going to give a few warnings for this chapter - there's a few moments that could be considered triggering- like pulling one's hair out, and body injuries. It isn't explicitly described, but I just wanted to warn you guys just in case.

Harry awoke slowly, comfortable for the first time in a long time. His body was relaxed, cushioned by the plush mattress, much better than the ones at Hogwarts had ever been. The room must have been dark, judging by the coolness of his skin, even under the smooth, silky sheets.

Harry groaned, confused. He felt better than he could ever remember. There was still the constant hurt, but it was dimmed to an ache instead of the screaming, blinding mass of horror he usually felt. His head felt calm, his body healed of any outward physical injuries. Even his throat no longer felt sore from his screaming. 

With a sigh, he opened his eyes, sitting up from the comfort of the bed to take in the room. He both didn’t know where he was, and immediately recognized the room at the same time. It was obviously a room in Voldemort’s home, with the amount of green and silver and snake decor in the room. 

Two snakes above the entry door immediately caught Harry’s eye. One was black with emeralds for eyes, the other, silver with rubies. Slowly, almost robotically, the silver snake seemed to come to life, slithering around and escaping through a small hole in the wall. Probably to tell someone Harry was awake.

It was then that Harry stood, realizing he was stark naked in a bed he didn’t recognize. Usually nudity wouldn’t bother him, however now it meant that whoever had put him here had also undressed him. Had touched his skin, had looked at his body. Harry had to stop himself from reaching up to his hair to pull at it in chunks. 

Pulling the sheet off the bed, Harry wrapped it around his too thin body, making sure he was fully covered before moving on. He decided to take his time in this escape; hopefully he had another moment or two before the metallic snake reached its master. Gradually, bones creaking from disuse, Harry made his way to the shaded windows, lifting back the curtains to hopefully gain a guess of what time it was. 

“ _ Almost noon. . . any elves should be busy. Anyone else is hopefully minding their own business, if I can get to a door I can make a run for it. . . _ ”

Harry’s voice was raspy, quiet. He was thirsty, but he knew he didn’t have time for much more. He could discern he was on at least a third story, facing some sort of garden that led to a forest. If he could find the door that led to the garden it was a straight shot to freedom, but from the looks of it, any exit would do. 

Turning, Harry took brisk, yet wobbly steps to the door leading to the hall. There he stood for a moment, quiet, listening for any sign of life on the other side. It seemed silent, way too quiet for a guard to be out there; odd for someone housing their enemy. Though, Harry could admit it was odd that he was in a room, not in a dungeon cell anyway.

The door opened with a slight squeak, Harry grimacing at the alerting sound. No shouts or spells were heard as he looked around, taking a glance at the hall. Cream colored walls with dark wood accents, doors and odd paintings popping up in intervals. Stepping out, Harry double checked that there were no guards coming for him. For a moment, he swore he could hear someone coming from his right, slow, easy-going steps sounding far off, but coming closer. 

That, obviously, made his choice easier, turning to the left and high-tailing down the hall. He didn’t know where he was going, but he hoped it was towards stairs. Most places like this had stairs everywhere.

“Harry?”

He almost stopped, recognizing the voice coming from behind. Voldemort. Voldemort, himself, had come to the room Harry had been resting, and was surprised he was not there. It almost made him laugh, a few maddened giggles finding their quiet way out. Knowing he had shocked the older wizard was entertaining, doing it again would be downright  _ fun _ . 

“Potter! Where are you?” That rich voice yelling his name, sounding panicked, concerned, brought a great sense of joy to Harry’s soul as he picked up the pace, holding the sheet tighter around his body in fear of dropping it. 

He heard a quiet discussion, leading Harry to believe that Voldemort had another person with him, another person for Harry to screw with. They must have separated, because he heard feet moving quickly in different directions, one following him, another the opposite. 

Harry kept moving though, even as his body began to feel exhausted, even when his stomach began to growl and his head began to hurt. He could even feel Voldemort getting closer to him, the connection acting like a stretched rubber band bringing them closer faster and faster.

With a grunt of irritation, Harry realized he needed to stop and hide, pushing through a pair of double doors, cringing as he realized what room he entered. A large open room, with a beautiful, wiry chandelier in the center. A ballroom.

“ _ Who puts a ballroom on a third floor _ ,” mumbling, Harry looked around for a place to hide, feeling Voldemort closing in quickly. With no obvious choices, a brilliant plan popped in Harry’s head as he stared up at marble ceiling. 

Tying the sheet even tighter, Harry pressed his hands and feet against the smooth walls, beginning the difficult task of using his magic to climb to the ceiling, grinning all the way. If he was lucky, Voldemort would never think of looking  _ up _ , and Harry could have a grand  **laugh** after he finished escaping. 

Harry finally reached the high ceiling, just as another set of doors opened in the room. With amusement, Harry noticed the sheet had shifted as he climbed, and with a quiet snicker sat his bare ass on the ceiling to watch the show. 

From the same door Harry had come through, a confused Severus Snape entered, almost causing Harry to lose his happy smile in favor for a grimace. Instead, he turned his head to face Voldemort, hoping the confusion on the wizard’s face would bring back his joy, but suddenly he felt his heart skip a beat.

No longer was there the thin, scaly creature from Harry’s fourth year that continued to haunt his nightmares. What remained was the smooth, chiseled features of an older Tom Riddle, with dark brown, wavy hair, and eyes the color of glowing embers. The pale skin remained, but Harry would had to have been blind to not notice his lips, full and pronounced, a light blush color. 

Harry could remember why Riddle from the diary often captivated his wet dreams and fantasies, but the older version almost made Harry salivate.

“Severus?” Harry almost screamed when that smooth voice said  _ that _ name, when those eyes turned to glance at the greasy wizard before looking over the room with a worried expression. 

Those worried eyes slowly began to bring Harry back to his normal thoughts, feeling the same thing he knew Voldemort, or was it Tom now, was feeling. They were  _ so  _ **_close_ ** , it was like a sixth sense, that they could feel each other’s presence. 

A quiet hissing laugh brought him out of his reverie, and Harry finally noticed the large snake following closely behind Tom, her eyes meeting Harry’s in an amused stare. Nagini? Was that her name? Either way, it was  _ cheating _ for Riddle, it was  _ Riddle _ now, to bring an animal that could hunt him. What kind of game was that?

Of course, both men’s eyes found Harry on the ceiling, his face set in a scowl that could defeat Snape’s. It almost left when he heard Snape make a choking sound, but now he was angry that they had cheated with Nagini. Harry didn’t have an animal helping him!

“Harry, get off the ceiling, this instant!” There was that smooth voice, yelling with concern again, red eyes narrowed and glaring, but there was a smirk on those lips, even Harry could see it from his spot on the ceiling.

“Nah. You get off the floor.”

“Potter! That is no way to act- just in a sheet, running around-” Snape had gotten over his shock apparently, pointing at Harry like he was a proper teacher or something. Harry could have laughed.

“Stuff it, Snape. I just want to leave, unless you plan on killing me then. Just make it fast if you’d please.” Harry held out his arms, grinning at the men with his head cocked to the side. He knew what he looked like, knew what he was passing off to Snape, but he had decided long ago that if Snape wanted him to be his Father that’s what he’d be.

“ _ Youngling, please come down _ ,” Harry felt his entire body relax suddenly, his head feeling fuzzy for a moment. He looked down at Nagini, as she perched across Riddle’s shoulders to reach closer to him, her words gentle as she spoke. “ _ No one wishes to harm you, Master wishes me to make that clear. _ ”

“ _ Hello. . . I- Um. _ ” Harry shook his head, struggling for a moment, “ _ You’re Nagini, right? You look quite lovely. _ ”

“ _ Thank you, Youngling. I’m sure you are adorable yourself. Will you please come down and dress yourself? Master wishes to speak with you over lunch. _ ”

Harry thought very hard for a moment, staring at the large snake before him. She said they wouldn’t harm him, and he was, actually, very hungry. They were also offering clothes, and it would be easier to live outside with clothes than without. With a slight nod, Harry shifted, beginning to release the magic holding him upside down. 

“ _ But only if you come with me. I trust you, Nagini. _ ”

If snakes could nod, Nagini seemed to, her body lowering back to the ground as he did. Though, Harry felt a sudden slip, choosing the protect himself and land softly than catch the sheet protecting his modesty. 

And there he stood, stark naked in front of his most hated teacher, and the man that wanted to kill him more than anything. He felt his fingers twitch, his face turning red, his eyes wide and unblinking. Snape made another choking sound, while Riddle seemed to stare at him unabashedly, a single eyebrow lifted. Anger seemed to fill his eyes at the sight of Harry’s body. 

Looking down, Harry nearly gagged, confused at the sight he hadn’t noticed in the dark room earlier. Old and new wounds coated his body; scars, bruises, open cuts, and a few open split bleeding wounds. Tears stung his eyes, his body moving on autopilot to grasp the sheet around him and yank it up to cover his body. 

“ _ What did you  _ **_d o_ ** _ to me? _ ”

“A few spells we used stopped your magic from hiding your wounds from our healers. Apparently there were so many, and your body so malnourished that instead of healing, your magic just hid as much as physically possible. I had. . . yet to see the worst of it.” 

Harry already pushed out Riddle’s words, instead focusing on keeping his head down and body covered. He already knew that Riddle  _ hurt _ him, and they said they  _ wouldn’t _ , they weren’t going to, and yet Harry’s body was covered in cuts he knew he recognized but they weren’t there before Riddle  _ kidnapped _ him. 

_ They hurt me, I’m hurt, how dare they, do they know what I’ve done, what I’ll do, Merlin, why? WHY.  _

The thoughts were on repeat in Harry’s mind as he quickly stepped away from the two older wizards, holding the sheet tightly against his body as he stared at the floor. “ _ Nagini, be a dear and lead me back to my room? _ ”

“ _ Of course, Youngling. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I've been thinking really hard about this because I don't want anyone to think I'm doing this for money or anything, I'm doing this for fun, because I love writing, and I need the practice because I want to write my own books one day, but for that I do need money to help get through life. I'm not asking for money, I don't want anyone to think that, but if you like my work would you consider buying me a coffee, or sharing this fic with others. I do spend hours a week on fanfics, and yes, it is for fun and practice, but I would really appreciate it.  
> I'm going to keep writing this either way, keeping up a regular schedule if possible, so please don't feel obligated. Soon enough, I'm going to be adding more Tomarry/Harrymort fics to the mix too.  
> It's only $3, so, if you ever have the extra cash why not look me up on Ko-fi.


	4. Recognition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Tom's point of view; I saw a few comments of people wanting to know what he thought when they found Harry in the woods, so here goes!  
> Thanks for all the comments, I hope you guys enjoy!

Tom Riddle was not a kind man. He was not patient, gentle, or friendly. Instead, he claimed his ruthlessness, his ability to lead and cause pain in order to get to where he needed to be. He had killed, tortured, and maimed, he had led others to do the same; even seen the most powerful of men lose their lunches to what they had seen.

But even Tom, Lord Voldemort himself, felt sick to his stomach after watching Harry Potter tear through his minions like they were nothing more than  _ insects _ . The blood and viscera covered the ground and the young man standing the center; the mound of bodies building up. Wailing and screaming the entire time, Tom could hear a quiet muttering in the back of his mind that could only be Harry’s thoughts connected to his. 

_ “Leave me alone! You should have just left me alone!” _

It was a broken voice, the magic in his words making even Tom want to back up. The screeching parseltongue was  _ wrong _ ; it didn’t feel human as it pushed into Tom’s mind, and he almost screamed with it. The raw magic was never meant to be released from a wizard’s body, and it was attacking everything Harry deemed a threat.

Tom had to get  _ closer _ , to the rich magic that was so similar yet so unlike his that it felt like it was ripping him apart from the core.  He had to get closer to that beautiful chaotic thing that he had created, and pull it close, make it rest, if only for a moment; just to get the young man to calm down enough so they could help him, help him understand how extraordinary he was. 

Now that Tom knew who this perfect young man was.

It was almost easy, now that he was distracted, to apparate behind the giggling young monster. So like him, yet so  _ new _ . Easy to lift him, to use his magic to keep Harry from lashing out and hurting him. So  **_easy_ ** to gently lean his head back, and stare into those gorgeous green eyes and press inside; forcing sleep upon him. It was adorable to watch the tenseness, the fury, the pain, roll out of the thin body, and smooth eyelids dip closed, hiding the pure color from Tom’s sight. 

“ _ Let go of him _ !”

Tom would have been happy to take his time staring down at Harry’s young features, if the angry, motherly voice hadn’t broken his reverie. The dark snake was coiled by the doorway, her form tense as she flicked her tongue in Tom’s direction. He almost cooed at her.

Of course Harry had befriended such a lovely creature.

“ _ I must take him away, lovely. He needs help. _ ”

It was interesting, watching her indecision. She was a small creature, with a lot she was willing to protect, but not a large ability to do so. The man would win, she knew, and Harry would be lost to her either way. The best plan would be to stay alive, in hopes he could ever make it back to her.

“ _ You will take care of him, Speaker? _ ”

Tom nodded, releasing Harry from his spell, to hold him in his arms, somehow still shocked by how light his form was. 

“ _ Better than myself. _ ”

* * *

 

Riddle was tired, exhausted even, as he remembered the night he and his followers pursued Harry in that forest. He had convinced himself it was just the Horcrux messing with Harry’s mind, making him act out and dangerous; but the theory was thrown out once Harry was under the spells of several of Tom’s healers. 

So many injuries, old and new, mental and physical. Tom’s soul encroaching on the property certainly wasn’t helping.

“My Lord?”

Tom glanced upwards, moving his glare from the table to Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, his mind still not deciding whose voice it had picked up. Both men, advisors and close members of his inner circle, looked concerned for him. He hadn’t been sleeping as regularly, it must have shown on his face, or in how long it took his thoughts to catch up to the situation.

“Are you alright, my Lord?” Ah, Lucius, always the worrier. 

“I am fine, Lucius. Simply thinking on the situation we have been given,” he reached out, tapping the table lightly and feeling his magic spread throughout his body, searching for Harry’s location. It was an odd connection, he was still getting used to it, but it was steadily getting useful with the young man’s disappearing acts.

“This is now extensively more difficult with these current circumstances. A young, powerful wizard is sick, and we need to help him, but, he is also in an important position. He needs to heal, but he is in danger wherever he goes.” His words were quiet, his focus still on Harry’s distant magic. 

“I feel as if I have met that energy, wild and drastic. It felt dark, all consuming, almost like if I took the wrong step it would swallow me whole. Tell me, does this sound familiar to you?”

Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, did not have to look at two of his closest followers to know what was at the forefront of their minds. A tortured soul reaching the breaking point, killing for the sake of killing, easily convinced to kill families and infants in their cribs. Easily turned into a monster.

“What’re we talking about?” 

Shaken, Tom turned to glare at the young man entering the dining hall. With no shoes, and tightly clinging clothes Harry stepped inside, a sly grin on his face, letting Tom know just how he felt at having fooled the wizard. He almost allowed himself to be amused at the younger’s antics, it this wasn’t such a serious situation.

“You. Please, come sit. Eat. There’s much to discuss,” Tom motioned to the table, suddenly filled with breakfast items, plenty for Harry to enjoy. His words were polite, but his voice left no room for argument, his eyes staring up and down Harry’s body. 

He watched Harry suspiciously glance over the food, deciding upon a measly piece of toast, and sitting as far away from Tom as possible, glaring at the other members of the table. Tom watched, amused, as Harry’s teeth crunched through the flavorless meal, his green eyes speaking murder for every other person seated there. He could have laughed when Lucius somehow got paler. 

“Could we hurry this up? Plenty of forests for me to run through, and all that, should probably get going.” Harry’s eyes finally landed on Tom’s as he messily wiped away any leftover crumbs from his cheeks. 

“I’m afraid you won’t be leaving anytime soon, Mr. Potter.” He could have cursed Snape for taking Harry’s attention from him, those eyes turning to glare at the potions master. The scowl on the young man’s face was exquisite, even as it sat wrong on his sunken skin. 

“I was told I wasn’t going to be killed?”

“You won’t, you’re far too special. As my horcrux, I can’t allow you to die, or be in a dangerous-”

“What did you call me?” Ah, those eyes were back on him, but the fury was not something he wanted. It was like it took on its own being inside Harry’s body, the shadows in his eyes moving to overtake everything else.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Harry, a horcrux-”

“SHUT UP,” Tom really was not enjoying being cut off, not by anyone, especially not by Harry Potter in his own home. Definitely not being told to shut up. “Were you friends with my family? Because they like to use that word too,  _ whore _ .”

Harry was standing, a butter knife in his hand, pointed at Tom in lieu of a wand, “I must be just like my mother, a magic  _ whore _ . I must spread my legs for everyone, even the dark wizards, cause I’m a  _ whore _ . Now, I can’t  _ die _ , because I’m Voldemort’s special  **_WHORE_ ** .”

With the last word, a loud creak was heard as the knife was stabbed into the table, and Tom watched as Lucius and Severus were flung back in their seats, angry and fearful gasps coming from the men. He turned his eyes back to Harry to see a wild grin, tears filling those green eyes. 

“I am not a whore.”

The words were so quiet, Tom struggled to hear what was said. He could admit he was afraid of the young man, of what he could do. He knew he could calm Harry and take him down if necessary, but it could do damage he didn’t want to cause. So, instead, he watched as Harry wrenched the knife out of the table and seemed to debate over throwing it at Tom.

With an odd screech, Harry gripped the dull blade tighter in his fist and stalked from the room, mumbling to himself. It took a moment longer for high, whining shrieks to be heard from the hall, meaning Harry had somehow caught a house elf.

And finally, Tom released a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my tumblr is : fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com  
> And, if you ever have an extra $3 and want to help support me, look me up on Ko-fi!


	5. Soulless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit late, and it's a little shorter than usual, sorry guys! Anyway, who else loves momma Nagini?

Harry laid across his new bed, grinning at where his fingers dug into the nice sheets, leaving bloody marks and scrapes. He knew he had dragged more around wherever he went, as he was covered in the poor elf’s blood. He almost felt bad for killing the creature, but it was sadly the closest and easiest option.

If there had been another person on the other side of the door Harry would have killed them just as easily.

Sighing, Harry rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He had tried to make a run for it again after torturing the elf, making it as far as the edge of the garden when the wards shocked and pushed him back a safe distance. He had rushed it a few times, earning a few new burns, but even he knew when to give in.

So, now he was back in this infernal room, waiting for Voldemort or whoever to come collect him. Maybe even punish him for killing something, if they could get over their own fear of Harry. If that didn’t bring him a  _ sick _ sense of joy, to see Snape and Malfoy nearly shit themselves at his actions. 

_ “What you did was cruel, Youngling.” _

Harry shot up, glaring at Nagini as she slithered ever closer, startled by her sudden appearance. She spoke in the calm tones of a mother, not angry, just disappointed. He watched her in amazement, her large body climbing the bed to lay around him. 

“ _ I know, Nagini. But, I had to. . . I had to kill something. He made me so angry, and all the voices said it couldn’t be him, and I- _ ” He was getting upset, his body shaking, curling in on itself. 

Nagini immediately moved to soothe him, wrapping her large body around his shivering form in loose coils, and laying her thick head on his shoulder. Her tongue flickered, tasting his distress in the air. She could even sense his tears before they fell. 

“ _ It is alright, Youngling, it is good that you did not try to harm Master. Next time, maybe, kill something you can eat, so it is not wasteful. Even I do not eat the elves.”  _ She watched him nod, having seen her master do so many a time. “ _ Maybe, I will even request that Master keeps more things for us to hunt, yes? _ ”

She waited as he relaxed, giggling a bit to himself at the idea of a hunt; she thought of sharing her favorite hunting spots with him, imagining that he wound enjoy it. He was breathing easier, the tension in his body releasing slowly beneath her coils. He still shivered, concerning her, though she could find no lack of heat in his body.

“ _ Master said I must talk with you of what happened before you killed the creature. Of what Master tried to speak about with you, when you misunderstood him. _ ” She tried to keep her voice calm, even when she felt his body tense again, along with the electric energy of dangerous magic ready to strike.

“ _ I understood him well enough, Nagini. I don’t know why he came to the assumption that I’m like that, but he did, and now we’re here. End of discussion. I’m not a whore. _ ”

“ _ Horcrux, Youngling. He called you a  _ _ horcrux _ _ , not a demeaning word for one who mates with many. _ ” Not that she understood why that was a problem, she herself having had several mates in her lifetime. Even her master had welcomed a few mates into his bed, though they had not stayed long, and she had certainly not gained any grand-hatchlings from it.

The difference in tone seemed to catch Harry’s attention, his eyes turning to Nagini’s face, narrowed in confusion. He looked lost in thought for a moment, before speaking again, “ _ A what now? _ ”

“ _ Master would certainly be better at explaining, but as he failed last time. . . From what I understand, Master has taken a piece of himself and put it inside of you, like he has done with me and several objects. _ ”

“ _ That really doesn’t sound any different, Nagini. _ ”

“ _ His soul, Youngling. Master has split his soul, so that he may live on. A horcrux is an object that contains that piece, such as you and I. So, Master must protect us, like he would himself. _ ”

There was confusion and disgust rolling off Harry in waves, making Nagini worried. Unconsciously, she curled tighter, trying to calm him. A buzzing energy filled the room, the walls seemingly beginning to shake with it. 

“ _ Harry, Youngling, please- _ ”

“ **_They wanted me to die._ ** ”

Nagini was silenced at that, hearing the raw anguish in the young man’s voice. He had gone entirely still, to the point she wondered if he was even breathing. His eyes stared straight ahead, a fury inside that Nagini had only seen a few times in her Master’s.

“ **_That bastard. That fucking bastard knew the whole time, didn’t he. He didn’t want me to fight him, he wanted him to kill me! He wanted Voldemort to kill me, so he could swoop in and save the world, and be a hero. They all knew!_ ** ”

Harry began physically fighting his way out of Nagini’s hold, his voice beginning to crack and break as he yelled. Nagini held close, still trying to calm the young wizard, hoping her master would sense their distress and come to their rescue.

“ _ Harry, it’s alright! Master has you now, he won’t let that happen _ ,” She was strained, holding the fighting wizard was difficult with his magic lashing out. It pulled at her, straining to yank her from Harry, but did no harm to her. She knew that meant Harry was still somewhat in control of himself.

“ **_I’m going to kill them! For what they did to me! For what they did to him, to you, to everyone. They did this! THEY DID THIS!_ ** ” With his final cry, Nagini’s hold gave out, and Harry rushed from the room, feet barely touching the floor as he ran. 

Harry felt tears slip down his cheeks as he rushed through the halls, letting his thoughts go for a moment, and focusing on the central feeling in his mind, following his connection to Voldemort. The halls wrapped and wound around, confusing his eyes, but never that connection, leading him to Voldemort’s office in the center of the manor.

He didn’t bother to knock, the door slamming open under his fingertips. Voldemort didn’t look shocked, looking at Harry as if he’d been expecting him, as if he understood and relished in Harry’s anger. He said nothing as Harry came inside; nothing when Harry stood before him, nothing when Harry kneeled on the ground.

“Help me kill them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my tumblr is : fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com  
> And, if you ever have an extra $3 and would like to support me, look me up on Ko-fi!


	6. Allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to update. I didn't really care for this chapter so it threw me for a bit, but I PROMISE to be better about it.

“You will need more than my assistance, Harry,” Tom began slowly, chin in hand, a small smirk forming on his lips. The beautiful rage flowing off of Harry was intoxicating, one he had felt many a time towards the same people he often felt the same anger. “I will gladly offer you whatever resources I can, however, you will need help from more than me.”

Harry’s features twisted deliciously, Tom having the perfect angle. Having a young, powerful wizard on their knees before you was always an stirring sight, if you asked him. It was obvious that Harry thought differently, a point of weakness as he glared at the wizard above him.

“What do you mean, I need help from more than you,” Harry’s voice was coming through grit teeth, his anger rising more. It was a focused anger, almost contained, leaving Tom content to be almost mocking.

“You need friends, Harry. Allies. On both sides. I would share mine, but, it was difficult enough as it was to find followers that would not either rush to kill or save you in my inner circle. So far, I only trust two with your safety, and you’ve already scarred them for life.”

“Snape and Malfoy? You trust _them_?” It was disbelieving, Harry containing an obvious hatred for the other men. He shivered where he kneeled on the ground, beginning to look uncomfortable with the situation.

“The moment I sensed your fury, and that you were coming to find me, I sent them away. I felt it safer for all involved. They are my closest. Lucius has been since he took his father’s place, and Severus since he took Lucius’ side. I trust their faith in me and themselves.”

Tom took a break in his words, giving Harry a moment to think, to understand what the older was saying. Crossing his legs, and leaning back in his seat, Tom gave a calculated glance to the younger wizard. “Surely you have a friend, someone that would help you now that you have learned the truth?”

“Not anymore.” It was quiet, so quiet Tom almost didn’t hear him. It was unsettling, how silent the room had gotten, and the loss in Harry’s eyes. Something Tom didn’t understand.

“I don’t have friends. Most of them either work for Dumbledore or. . .” Harry took a deep, shuddering breath, “They wouldn’t be friends with me after what I’ve done. What I’ve _become_ . I’ve killed people, not even just that, but gruesomely murdered them. I’ve been living with snakes. I’ve eaten random animals raw, and _enjoyed_ it. Who would want to be friends with a monster like that?”

Tom laughed, rich and heady, his head thrown back in his amusement. He almost laughed more at Harry’s shock. “Harry Potter, do you _know_ the things I have done? I have done that and **more** . Believe me, there are still people out there that will enjoy your company, or just want the same goal as you do. They _will_ help you.”

Standing, and pulling Harry up to do the same, Tom ran his hand through the younger’s hair, a wild grin on his face. “I have so much to teach you, Harry. When I’m finished, not only will you have destroyed all who have harmed you, you will be standing at my side, one of the most powerful wizards in the world. Helping me rule it.”

With that, Tom left his own office, letting Harry stew in his own confusion and wonderment.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Doppelgangers,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I need to talk to someone. If you don’t want to respond, or even read this letter, I only ask that you don’t tell anyone else that I sent this. I hope that as you were once my friends that you will at least do that for me._

_I am safe, though not what I would have called safe in my past. I’m with Voldemort. He’s helping me after what I did, and yes, what I did was wrong, but they deserved it. You were part of the few who believed what they did to me, you know they deserved it. But now, someone else deserves justice, whether my form or not, I hope my letter helps you decide._

_Voldemort has told me something. I’m a horcrux, an object used to contain a piece of someone’s soul so that they may live on infinitely. I’m Voldemort’s horcrux. Dumbledore knew this from the beginning. He wants me to die. He let me grow up in hell so I would either kill myself or grow up humble enough to die for this cause that I don’t give a fuck about._

_I need to know who else knew about this. I need my things, and information. Can you be there for me? I will absolutely understand if you won’t. I wouldn’t either._

__Serpentine_ _

* * *

 

_Dear Serpentine,_

_Honestly, we are insulted that you would ask. Obviously, we are here for you. We were so worried after you disappeared, but we’ve taken guard over as much of your stuff as possible! We’re glad your safe, and while we do disagree with how it went down, yes, they deserved it._

_If Voldemort tells the truth, we’re furious for you. Your our friend Harry, you are not a sacrificial lamb. We will tell you what you need to know, as long as you promise to stay in contact. We’re worriers you know._

_Can we tell the others? They really care about you, and want you safe. They’ll keep your secret, we’ll make sure of it. We know who to trust, promise._

__Doppelgangers__

* * *

 

Harry put the letter down, staring blankly forward, thinking, calm, about his friends’ answer. The twins had surprised him, responding, and positively at that. Telling him that there were others that wanted to speak to him, that still believed in him, wanted to be his _friend_.

He continued to think about what Riddle said, that he needed allies to help him in his fight. The twins were always close to him, like he had brothers. He wasn’t sure he wanted to bring them into this battle between the “light” and himself, but he knew he wanted them in his life.

He didn’t know what he would have done if they had denied him.

Making his decision, Harry picked up his quill once more, and called on his strength to write his friends once more.

_Dear Doppelgangers,_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my tumblr is @ fairytales-andfuckery  
> And, if you ever have an extra $3 and would like to support me, look me up on Ko-fi under BeccaLyn, or find the link on my tumblr!


	7. Potion-Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very excited to announce that Would You Still Love Me? is now being translated into [Spanish](https://www.wattpad.com/story/180284960)! It's honestly been kind of a dream of mine as a writer to see my work in other languages so I'm very thankful for [nuitdilune](https://nuitdilune.tumblr.com/) (tumblr) to have given me the opportunity.
> 
> Also quick note, this is one of the lighter chapters, really here to help move things along. We'll get back to the dark stuff soon.

Harry hated to admit it, but he was getting used to living in the manor with Voldemort, or Riddle, or whatever it was his mind wanted to call him at any given moment. It was a rough start, but he felt safer than ever, more so than his shack with Adda.

Every morning he awoke, like clockwork, warm and comfortable, sometimes with Nagini snuggled around him like a vice-grip blanket. He would always find himself to the dining, Riddle already sitting there waiting for him, with the always present smug look on his face. Then, he would be left to his own, Riddle having work to do, and Harry found his library overly entertaining.

There was always something different to see in there.

Finally they would meet up for dinner, Lucius or Snape (sometimes both) usually joining them. The other men were getting used to Harry as well, their bodies more comfortable as they sat in his presence. Then they would retire, Riddle bidding Harry a good night, and each of them moving to their own rooms.

It was like they were _married_ . An old married couple that lived together and had a _happy little normal life._ It was **_sickening_**.

And Harry hated how much he was enjoying it.

He was supposed to be in the wild, on the run from everyone and every expectation made of him. He was supposed to be living freely, not caring if he was as crazy as he knew he was, doing whatever he wanted.

But, instead, he was here. Living with his enemy, who was supposed to _kill him_ , and he was hating enjoying it. Learning new and darker spells every day, and scaring the living daylights out of Riddle’s closest minions. Cuddling with a giant snake. Joking with a dark lord. 

It was amazing, how much he didn’t mind living there. How peaceful his mind had become in his few short weeks there. He could still feel the pain and horrors reaching out at the back of his mind, trying to pull him back under its allure, but it was patient, waiting for its turn to come back out to play. 

“ _Youngling, what has you so lost?_ ”

Harry was startled from his thoughts, his eyes moving from their blank stare at a random book about wards (maybe he could find a way to break the ones keeping him locked inside the manor), looking for the source of the quiet, hissing voice. His glance was caught on the large snake as she slithered closer, her head moving to rest on the lounge beside him.

With a small smile, he reached out to gently caress the scales on her head, her pleased hiss reaching him. “ _I’ve just been thinking, Nagini. I’ve been here a while and it’s odd. This isn’t what I’m used to._ ”

He could feel her tongue reach out, tickling his wrist as she stared at him. “ _You feel safe with master, don’t you youngling? You aren’t used to feeling safe?_ ”

There was a sense of understanding in her voice, almost a coo of a mother to their child, helping them discover a new part of themselves. She stared unblinkingly at Harry, leaving him to stew over her accusations, leaving him with a feeling of deep discomfort. Thinking of things he would rather leave in the back of his mind. A curl of darkness unweaving itself from the rest to flick at his thoughts. 

“ _While you think on that, Master wishes to see you._ ” Her body turned away suddenly, leaving Harry’s hand resting on empty air.

“ _Couldn’t he have come found me, instead of sending you,_ ” he spat. Harry didn’t particularly appreciate the laugh Nagini hissed out as she left him in the library. With a groan, he slammed his book closed, an explosion of dust covering his midsection. He stood slowly, planning on taking his sweet time on reaching Riddle’s office.

 

* * *

“ _No_. Absolutely not.”

“Harry-”

“No,” Harry could feel the burn of Riddle’s glare as he kept interrupting him. He sat, comfortably lounged across one of chairs across Riddle’s desk, staring at the wall instead of facing the ire of the older man.

“Harry this isn’t up for discussion, you _will_ be taking lessons with Severus.”

Harry could have laughed, the man sounded so serious, so final. As if simply commanding him would have him agreeing readily. Feeling the sudden shift from fury to surprise, he realized he _was_ laughing, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Tom Riddle was shocked that he was laughing.

“I’m not one of your lackeys, Tom. You can’t just order me around and expect me to do what you say,” he finally turned to look at the other man, an amused smile on his lips. Riddle obviously wasn’t happy.

“I don’t expect you to be like my so-called lackeys, Harry," the term fell off of Riddle's tongue like he had never said it before, like it offended him greatly, "but I expect you to listen to me when I’m doing something for your safety. I want you trained properly so that you can protect yourself,” His drawl was calm, but his eyes held a barely contained fury as he watched Harry’s reaction to his words.

“You want me, to work with someone who hates me, for my safety. That sounds like the worst excuse I’ve ever heard, Riddle.” He wasn’t accepting it. No way was he just going to lie down and take whatever Riddle gave him.

Then he smirked. Riddle fucking smirked. He stood, stalking around his desk, his eyes on Harry’s with every step. Harry wanted to sink into the chair, pretend he didn’t exist, as Riddle slipped his fingers over his chin, holding his face still as they stared in each other’s eyes.

“Now, Harry, I thought I hated you too, but now I’m perfectly willing to train you, for your safety,” the words sounded too perfect, too smooth, too fucking attractive to be about what they were originally talking about. Riddle’s voice sounded like he was purring as he spoke, his hand resting firmly on Harry’s skin.

“Wh-what,” Harry choked out, eyes wide, mind going blank. This was close, too close, every fiber of his being, every nerve telling him to escape, to run.

“I’ll be training you too, but your excitable little mouth wouldn’t let me get that out before you interrupted me,” his hand tightened, squeezing Harry’s jaw almost painfully. “I can’t have my horcrux running around, with only the bare minimum of spells in his mind.”

“Stop calling me that.”

His eyebrow raised at the change of subject, his smirk widening, “Harry, we’ve discussed this. You are my horcrux, whether you accept it or not, you are _mine_.”

Harry grit his teeth, trying to pull his chin from Riddle’s grasp, mind racing to change the subject once more, “What if I kill him? Do what I did to my piece of shit family?”

Riddle laughed now, grip tightening once more and pulling Harry’s face closer. “Anything you try to do to him will automatically be rebounded. The same with me, unless we are practicing, of course.”

He released Harry just as suddenly as he grabbed him, turning to the exit, “We begin tomorrow, Harry. **Do not** disappoint me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always check out my [tumblr](http://fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com/) for any questions, comments, and occasional updates. If you ever have an extra $3 and would like to support my work, please find the link to my ko-fi on my tumblr.  
> Another special shout out to Alice, thank you so much for giving my fanfiction a chance and translating it!


	8. Temptation

_ It was hot, so fucking hot, and Harry could only pant and groan, canting his hips up in the air. The sheets against his bare skin could do nothing to soothe the sweltering heat burning him, the air just as hot, if not hotter than his overheated core. Sweat dripped down his body in thick rivelets, pooling in the sheets below. _

_ “My, my, what a treat that has found its way into my room,” the voice was a deep tember, rocking Harry’s core, his bones, and he cried out at the sound, body bouncing fully onto the mattress.  _

_ The other man had been in the room the entire time, watching him from the shadows with his greedy scarlet eyes. Harry moaned a small plea, throwing his arms in the air towards the older man, anything,  _ anything _ , to get him to crawl over him, to stop this blossoming heat before it consumed his entire being.  _

_ “Tom,  _ Tom please, _ ” his hands opened and closed wildly in a give me motion, back arching as he turned his pleading eyes to his torturer.  _

_ Tom grinned, his smile wide, showing off his too sharp, too white teeth. He finally stepped forward, his shirt already unbuttoned, his eyes darkened to a deep wine color as he eyed Harry’s writhing body. His steps were slow, measured, his grin easy. Whatever spell he had Harry under was working beautifully.  _

_ “Please what, Harry? Surely that pretty mouth knows how to use words,” he chuckled endlessly, Harry sucking in a breath.  _

_ “Tom, don’t be an ass-” Harry groaned, his mind absorbed by the blasting heat, “I’m sorry,  _ I’m sorry _ , please, please do something, make it stop, touch me-” _

_ Tom’s body was covering his in an instant, his chest pressing cooly against his burning skin. Harry’s arms flew around his shoulders, legs moving just as quick to wrap around his waist, moaning as cool arousal flooded his system just at a touch. He wrapped around Tom, ignoring his infernal chuckling in his ear, refusing to let him go, to let the burning heat return.  _

_ “What a lovely surprise, Harry. To find you so ready and willing for me,” Tom layered open mouth kisses on Harry’s jaw, nibbling and sucking his way to his lips, pressing his body fully down, forcing Harry’s into the mattress and their arousals together. “Does that mean you deserve a reward?” _

_ Harry mewled in response, shifting his hips eagerly, “Yes, yes please.” _

_ A growl, and Tom pressed their lips together, a claiming, hungry kiss that Harry could only open and accept. Tom’s teeth pressed against his lips violently, Harry gasping, and the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. His tongue was next, taking control of every surface in Harry’s mouth, forcing his tongue into a battle of wills until he ultimately submitted, much to the older man’s pleasure.  _

_ Tom thrust against his pliant body, forcing and rubbing their arousals together, making Harry moan and hiss and cry out. Their bodies fit together so deliciously, perfectly, harmoniously, as if they were made for this, made for each other. The rough fabric of Tom’s covered cock rutting against his rapidly heating and cooling flesh had his head thrown back, his voice crying out. _

_ Tom kept licking at the blood dripping down his chin, down his throat, sucking and biting the skin. Harry wanted to scream, moan, cry under his ministrations. His body shook, a familiar feeling building behind his navel, his hips stuttering, voice going higher in pitch. _

_ “ _ Tom- Tom yes _ ,” he was breathless, so fucking breathless, and he heard Tom’s laughter, but it was different too, weaker, strained. The man grunted, pressing against him, rubbing their cocks against each other.  _

_ “Say it, Harry,” his body stilled, a chuckle still in his throat. Harry groaned, trying to wiggle his  hips, trying to continue that stimulation, anything, anything- “Say it.” _

_ Harry blubbered needlessly, having too much to say and do, and not enough at the same time. His hands pushed and pulled at the older man’s shoulders, tears filling his eyes, he was so  _ close _ - _

_ “I’m yours, yours, only yours!” _

* * *

 

Harry groaned, already feeling the cooling stain in his shorts, and for once happy that Nagini hadn’t decided to join him for the night. He didn’t know where that dream came from. Yeah, he had wet dreams of the guy when he was younger, but it was always with a lingering threat of death, not a sense of ownership.

The fact that he had actually come from that bothered him more than anything. 

He groaned again, pulling himself up from his comfortable bed and peeling the soiled underwear off. The shower was calling his name, and frankly, he felt he deserved a nice relaxing shower after that. Not to mention having to deal with the man himself for his first bout of training. 

Great.

The bathroom was beautiful, just like the rest of the house, with cool grey tiles, and dark accents. The shower itself was open with black marble, and Harry was all too happy to stand in its steady stream of scalding water. It heated his damaged skin, washing away the remnants of his dream.

* * *

 

“Mr. Potter.”

Harry smiled widely at the potions professor, a plan already running through his mind. Tom may have said he couldn’t hurt or kill the man, but he said nothing about scaring the hell out of him. 

“Please, Severus. We eat at the same table practically every night. Surely that means we can be on a first name basis, call me Harry,” he pushed his voice towards sincerity, throwing too much sugary sweetness, too many pleasantries. 

The man looked like he had tried to swallow a lemon.

“Fine,  _ Harry _ ,” his name came out like a hiss from the man’s mouth, putting an even wider grin on Harry’s face. “The Dark Lord has given me an explicit list of potions for you to learn. Some I have already tried to teach you, but because-”

“You are possibly the worst potions teacher to ever exist ever?” Harry kept the sugary tone, even as the man’s furious eyes turned to him, his entire face twitching. 

Snape continued to speak through gritted teeth, as if Harry hadn’t spoken, “because of your previous grades, I am going to assume you need to learn them  _ again _ .”

“Mhmm, and what if I don’t want to?” Harry looked around the chamber disinterestedly, ignoring the choking sound Snape made. It had obviously been changed into a miniature classroom specifically for this purpose. 

“The Dark Lord has ordered this-”

“And you think the Dark Lord is the thing you should be scared of?” Harry’s eyes turned back to Snape, just in time to see the man pale dramatically. He tapped his fingers against the desk, letting his magic, serge, wrapping around them both. He had no intent other than to scare the man, Tom’s curse having no weight against him. 

“I know you were there that night. You saw what I did to them, my own family. My mother’s sister,” Harry chuckled darkly, the sound scratching against his throat. “Such innocent muggles they were, I’m sure you thought.”

“Petunia was never an innocent person.” 

Harry’s magic stilled, Snape looking equally as shocked at his own outburst. Seconds ticked by as they stared at each other silently, Harry’s eyes wide, his mind searching for an explanation in all his mentalities. 

“You knew her?”

Snape’s eye twitched again, his body relaxing somewhat. He looked unsure, looking at the door, before looking at Harry, and finally sitting down across from him. 

“Was it true? That you were never told about the wizarding world? I can understand Petunia never saying a word about me, she hated me, but to hide the truth about what you are? It’s wrong.”

Harry backed up from the man, his mind screaming in confusion. This wasn’t how his plan was meant to go. Snape knew is Aunt? Snape knew the truth? Snape knew about how his family had  _ hurt _ him?

“I didn’t know my own name until I went to muggle school, Severus. They hated magic, hated  _ me. _ I didn’t know anything until Hagrid showed up at my door.”

Snape looked pained, his expression sad, angry, fearful all at the same time. “I grew up with your mother and Petunia. Your mother and I were very close until I reacted out of anger, and we were no longer on speaking terms. I even tried to save your mother from the Dark Lord’s wrath all those years ago.”

Harry’s mind screamed out, his thoughts racing, trying to make sense of what Snape said. Snape tried to save his mother? Snape grew up with his mother? Bits and pieces suddenly made since in his past, and that dark part of his mind grew larger, angry, his blood turning to ice in his body. 

“I think- I think I need to leave.”

“Harry?” Snape’s voice was so concerned, and it was wrong, Snape hated him, he was supposed to hate him wasn’t he? 

Harry’s magic flung out, trying to protect him, as he pushed away, slamming himself against the door. He heard Snape yelling at him, worried, but he didn’t care. He needed to leave, get away from this man who suddenly knew more than he should, knew more about his life, his family than he did. 

The doorknob was scalding against his hand, charmed to keep them inside, and he screamed, skin burning, bubbling at the touch, but he kept pulling, tugging at the knob. He needed out, he need air. He needed freedom. He couldn’t stand to look at Snape anymore. He couldn’t stand to be in that fucking manor anymore! 

He was trapped,  _ trapped,  _ **_trapped_ ** _ , _ just like a scared child in a tiny cupboard.

“Harry! Stop!”

* * *

 

Harry awoke slowly, feeling a calm hand in his hair, a smooth voice speaking to him. He felt safe, calmer than he had been. When had he not been calm? He was crazy, yes, but why had he been a flurry of emotions and fear?

“Open your eyes, Harry.” 

He couldn’t say no to that command, opening his eyes to stare into a rich red. He tilted his head gently, trying to remember why those eyes were confusing, arousing, and terrifying at the same time. Those eyes searched his for a good minute before moving back with a smile. 

“Your memories will come back soon, Harry. I should have known you would find a way out of our training session.”

That voice was so warm, so comforting. Harry wanted to curl up in its sound, purr at its raw feeling as it stretched across him. Something in him said it was wrong, but something else said it was  _ right _ . 


	9. Bedtime Stories

When Harry woke up again, he was much more confused than he had been the first time. His first realization was that he was not in his room, and that the bed he was laying in was most certainly not the one he had grown used to. The second realization was that there was definitely another warm body in the bed with him.

He already had a massive headache, didn’t know where he was, and now he had to deal with this?

There were arms wrapped around his middle, holding him firmly back against a solid, warm chest. The tickling sensation of the other’s breath against his nape was oddly calming, making him want to relax into the embrace. Surely, this other person was safe. Tom wouldn’t allow someone dangerous near him-

Tom.

Harry’s eyes widened dramatically, body wiggling in an attempt to escape the other person as two new realizations suddenly dawned on him. Tom had made it clear that no one was to touch his things, and that Harry was definitely one of his things. If Tom knew Harry was in bed, though innocent as it seemed, with another man, Tom would be angry. But, another sinking thought reminded him that Tom would already know.

There weren’t any other men there besides them.

He wiggled with a new vigor, trying to escape the unyielding hold but not wake the other man at the same time. His face lit up in confused embarrassment, eyes wide and searching the darkened room for a means to escape.

He almost sighed in relief when an arm moved, lifting off of him, but it was released into a loud squeak when the hand hit his thigh with a resounding **smack**.

“Stop. Moving.”

Tom’s voice was a husky growl, not to be questioned, but there was something else there, lingering, and Harry slowly realized what had began poking him in the back. Tom’s hand was still warm against Harry’s stinging thigh, an instant reminder, _punishment_ , for his antics, for waking the bloody dark lord in such a way.

Harry felt heat rise to his face, cheeks reddening in shock and shame. He covered his face with his hands, curling his body, trying once more to move away from the other man, but still found himself in his grip. He whined loudly at his predicament, confusion rolling off of him as he heard the older man’s chuckles.

“Why- why am I in your bed?!” He cried out, still trying to inch further away, affronted by the sound of his amusement. The man only laughed harder, his grip tightening on Harry’s body.

“It’s much easier to watch a young man that’s lost his mind when in the same room, and I wasn’t giving up my bed to sleep in a guest room.” Tom’s chin pressed into Harry’s shoulder, breath tickling against his ear as he spoke, “I certainly didn’t expect to be awoken by such _indecent_ actions, _Harry_.”

The way Tom cooed his words made Harry want to curl up into a ball and disappear. The embarrassment was heavy in his limbs, his headache increasing further as he tried to think of how he had even gotten there in the first place.

“It wouldn’t have been happening if you weren’t hugging me like a demented octopus!” His voice squeaked in all the wrong places and seemed to be hysterical to the older man as his body rocked with laughter.

“Yes, Nagini has told me I’m quite the, ah, _cuddler_ , so to speak.” Tom sounded too amused over the situation, and Harry wanted nothing more that to turn around and smack him, or to run away screaming.

He groaned into his hands, shaking his head, “But why am in here anyway?”

Tom finally calmed down, his hand rubbing Harry’s thigh, as if he were soothing a startled animal, Harry noted grumpily. “During your lesson with Severus, you panicked over your discussion. After we had you healed, it seemed your mind reverted to an almost childish state, many of your memories were gone. You had no clue who Severus and I were.”

“After discovering it, we decided it was best for someone to be at your side at all times until your memories returned, and as I’m the only other person here. . .”

He didn’t understand what Tom was talking about, and he certainly didn’t remember having his lesson with Snape. The last thing he remembered was. . .

Fear.

Pure and simple. It ached in his chest like a long lost friend, with a coo it cried out to him, _“Did you miss me, Harry? Did you think you could escape me?”_ It was the darkness that curled around him, the walls that were too close, closing him in, the sound of doors slamming, the feeling of fists and nails against his already tattered body.

His memories poured into his mind, his throat scratching with the sound of a scream. He could feel Tom holding him, his calm presence poking at his thoughts, reaching into his being like it was nothing.

He clawed at the arms holding him, still feeling the spiders crawling on his skin. His eyes stared unblinking, searching for light because it was dark, it was always dark, too dark dark _dark_ **_dark_ **. There wasn’t room to move, he was trapped, stuck in his nightmare, this world his family had pushed into him again and again.

It felt like claws were digging into his cheeks, a firm hand twisting and grabbing his chin, forcing him to face furious red eyes. The once curious presence at the back of his mind took full force, a painful rage contorting and tearing through his every thought and memory. He was out of breath, and tired, so tired of fighting, doing nothing more than accept it.

Tom was _beautiful_ in his rage. His mind was apparently clear enough to make that thought.

“They did what. . . to you? No.” Tom was whispering, face so close to his and Harry could still barely hear the enraged words, “If you hadn’t already killed them I would have made them pay. You’re fucking _mine_ . And nobody, **_nobody_ ** , lays a _goddamn finger_ on you.”

Something in Harry purred at the statement as the insane rush in his mind came to a standstill. Tom’s words broke him out of his trance, his nightmare, and now he could only stare at the man, eyes wide, mouth open, aghast. Their eyes were locked, and Harry could still feel every movement as the older man looked and pulled through his thoughts, searching for a reaction.

Tom moved, suddenly, pressing a kiss against his forehead, before pulling him back into a comfortable position on the bed. He hugged Harry tightly, almost too tight, but Harry didn’t dare speak as the man maneuvered him as he saw fit.

Harry found his back pressed against Tom’s chest once more, and this time he didn’t find himself complaining. There was a rush of peaceful energy flowing through him, and he could feel his eyes closing.

“We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, Harry. You need to rest.”

And that was the last thing Harry heard before a calm darkness took over.

* * *

 

Harry found it oddly entertaining to wake up beside his supposed enemy. This time he discovered he was splayed across the man’s chest, but he couldn’t find it in himself to really care. He happily laid his head on the man’s shoulder and waited for him to wake up.

Tom looked. . . different when he was sleeping. He was obviously more relaxed, but he somehow looked younger. His hair was a mess of waves, face fully relaxed, mouth parted with his quiet breaths. Harry found himself wanting to see this Tom more often, this Tom who wasn’t always either smirking or glaring.

Not that he minded seeing that magnificent show of power from last night again. He still felt shivers from Tom’s magic against his body, his mind, calming him and threatening his enemies at the same time.

It was oddly a big turn on.

And that was how Tom found him grinning wildly on his chest that morning. The man eyed him, unconcerned, his arms moving to easily wrap around his middle once more.

“Good morning?” His tone was amused, it seemed like he was holding himself back from chuckling.

“Certainly.” Harry tilted his head, grin not wavering once as he stared down at the older man. “But, since I have you trapped at the moment, I decided I needed to ask you a few things.”

His memories had come back in his dreams, and now he was much calmer, ready to face the world with his choices. He ran his hands along Tom’s chest lightly, enjoying the feeling of the man’s warmth beneath him.

“Did Severus actually ask you to save my mother?”

Oh, it was lovely. The way Tom’s face changed from amused, almost perverted, to racing concern and confusion. His eyes searched Harry’s face, even as he continued to grin down at him, hands still tracing odd shapes onto his chest.

He seemed resigned to his fate. “Yes, he did. If she had not stood in my way and listened when I told her to move aside, I would have spared her.”

Harry nodded, accepting the man’s words. “Well, that was her fault then.”

His hands got rougher, nails scraping against the cloth of Tom’s nightshirt. He hummed lightly, feeling the fabric heat up beneath his fingers and Tom’s body shiver beneath his own. He kept rubbing and scratching until finally he felt Tom’s flesh.

“I’m also wondering when I said I was yours at any point? Seeing as you were _so_ sure of it last night.”

Suddenly there was a growl in his ear and a mattress at his back, and his grin only widened. Tom’s hands shoved his shoulders into the mattress, his face leaned close as he hissed at him.

“ _You are mine, Harry Potter. When have I ever let you believe you had a choice in the matter? You. Are. Mine.”_

Harry purred into the burning kiss pressed against his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Sorry it keeps taking me so long in between!  
> If you have any questions/comments/or just want to chat you can find me on [tumblr](http://fairytales-andfuckery.tumblr.com/)  
> And if you ever have an extra $3 and would like to support me and my work, please consider looking at my ko-fi, link on my tumblr, or just look me up under the same name!


	10. Hunger

The kiss seared into him, absorbing his every thought as he tried desperately to press himself against the older man. Arousal pressed and curled into him, every inch of his body aching for the fierce touches on his skin. It felt better than his dream self could have ever imagined. 

And then it was over, his mind and body crying out as the man pulled away, lifting his body completely off of Harry’s. There was a deep, chuckle rumbling in his ear, and he cried out at the sound, hands reaching out blindly to try and pull the man back down. His being hungered for the man’s touch, wanting nothing more than to consummate whatever was going on between them.

“Just look at you. A short few weeks ago you were accusing me of calling you a whore, and now you’re practically begging for my touch after a simple  _ kiss _ .” 

Harry scowled, wanting to disagree with the man so happily taunting him, but he knew he was  _ right _ . He tried not to care, but the arousal still bursting through his system could only let him think one thing: Make Tom touch him.

“Tom,” He pushed a gentle lilt into his voice, a sweet begging tone he knew would make the man react. “Aren’t you supposed to be proving something to me?”

The growl sounded again, full force as lips started burning their way down Harry’s throat, leaving mark after mark across his skin. His laugh was mirthful, loud and pleased as his legs locked around the older man, leaving him no room for escape. Like claws, his fingers dug into Tom’s shoulders as he writhed beneath the pleasurable warmth, each scorching kiss pushing rational thought from his mind.

Tom groaned against his flesh, forcing Harry against the bed and grinding their hips together in a delicious friction. Harry tried desperately to arch his back against the pleasure, a high pitched moan escaping his lips, his body caught securely between the warm body and soft mattress. The feeling was phenomenal, addictive, forcing pleased sighs and whimpers from his lips as Tom brought him closer and closer to the edge without even really touching him.

And, just as quickly as it began, it stopped. Tom’s mouth stopped traveling across his skin, hips lifting and hands trying to find a way to extract Harry’s limbs from where he had tightly bound them together. 

Needless to say, the whine Harry released was loud and irritated.

“Why’d you stop!” Harry gripped Tom tighter, locking his ankles forcefully against the older man’s back, trying desperately to bring back that delicious pleasure. 

Tom’s hand gripped his thigh, firm and warm, a gentle pressure pushing him to release his tight hold of the man’s body. “Call me old fashioned, Harry, but I don’t quite think you’re ready for this.”

The shock of the statement was enough for Tom to remove himself from Harry’s hold, Harry’s body hitting the mattress fully in his confusion. “What the fuck does that mean? I’m not  _ ready? _ I’m sorry, I think I’ve been quite ready for you to  _ fuck me _ since I got here.”

The amused sound the man made only made Harry’s ire raise more, and he could feel his core that had been so pleasantly settled since the night before begin to react to his change in emotions. “What? Is that it? You lead me on, got me here so you could laugh at me? That your big plan now, Tom?”

There was laughter now, but Tom pulled him up, setting a placating hand on his cheek, “No, Harry. Though that plan probably has some merit, not now. No, I simply think you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

“What reasons are there other than I want to have sex?”

Tom chuckled again, running his fingers along the infamous scar and sending a small hum of pleasure through Harry’s mind. “Maybe because I can sense everything that’s going on up here? Maybe, because I was able to calm you, and claim your thoughts in a way you had yet to experience properly. Maybe, just maybe, because you want to continue feeding on that energy like the little minx you are. And, maybe because you already experience attraction towards me, and know that I am attracted to you, and that you think you can use that.”

He pressed a kiss to Harry’s lips, chaste and sweet, barely a meeting of lips, before leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I use people Harry, not the other way around.”

And with that, he left Harry alone in his room.

* * *

 

Harry was bored, embarrassed, and a little angry. Honestly a terrible mixture for him to be in. So, of course, he was outside trying to find a way to escape the manor. Even though Tom had given him much more freedom than he had expected, he definitely did not expect to find any holes in the wards.

At least not any made on accident.

Now, he certainly didn’t want to get Nagini in any trouble, but he knew that Tom had made the wards himself with the special intention of keeping  _ horcruxes _ inside (Never let Harry into the library by himself if you have the intention of hiding something in there). He also knew, from the lovely snake herself, that she often went into the nearby woods to hunt, and he had watched her leave the manor and come back hours later with a full belly.

So, how was she leaving?

His body itched, his steps slow and almost agonizing as he paced, feeling like a caged animal. The outside world was only a few steps away, if only he could figure out where Nagini’s doorway was. Maybe it would be big enough for him, or he would be able to stretch it wider before someone noticed. Or, if it came down to it, he would reveal one of his few secrets left.

He wondered how far he could get before someone noticed he was missing. And that only brought up more questions. How far before someone found him? How far before Tom- _someone_ caught him. Would he be able to fight? It had been a while since he had fought anyone, it would feel _so good_ , even if just for a moment-

“ _ Youngling? _ ” 

The pleasant hiss brought Harry out of his thoughts, his eyes immediately focusing on the large snake sitting on the  _ other side of the wards _ . He stepped closer, smiling brightly as she stared at him.

“ _ What are you doing out here, Youngling? Master said you were ill. _ ” Her worry was sweet, turning his smile gentler.

“ _ Oh, I’m alright, Nagini. Just taking a walk to get some fresh air, it's good for us humans, you know? _ ” He glanced back towards the house for a moment, trying to sense where Tom was at the moment, and was pleased to find him in the opposite side of the manor. “ _ I didn’t know you were hunting today. _ ”

“ _ I meant only to be gone yesterday, but decided to hunt for longer. The seasons are changing. _ ”

Harry nodded, only half listening as he watched her large body slide closer, easily slipping through the wards. This close he could feel the change, subtle as she entered and slithered ever closer to him to absorb some of his warmth. He almost felt bad for using her in this way, but knew she wouldn’t get into too much trouble as she didn’t understand that he wasn’t to know where she entered the wards at. 

 “ _ I’m going to greet Master, will you be coming with me? _ ”

“ _ No, Nagini, I think I’m going to walk some more. I’ve been inside enough for the past few days. _ ” If snakes could nod, he swore she was, as she turned from him and slithered towards the manor. He watched her travel, faster than one would expect, and knew she wouldn’t question him.

But he still didn’t have time. He knew Nagini would tell Tom that Harry had seen her enter the wards, so he only had so long before Tom came for him and locked him inside so he could hide the entrance once more. With the entrance obviously only large enough for Nagini, he only had one option.

And, with a grin, he decided. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a poll open to everyone on my patreon (Becca Lyn) that has to do with this story! If anyone knows of a better place to do polls and stuff please let me know, but it is open to everyone, and I would appreciate it if you gave it a look!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has informed me that they could not find my patreon page, and I have attempted to resolve the issue, but sadly, it can only be found directly through a link. It is also against the rules to share a link to sites such as patreon on AO3 and as I like sharing my fics with you guys I'm going to try something different.
> 
> If you would still like to interact with the poll, or just check out my patreon, you should be able to find a link on my tumblr account @fairytales-andfuckery and in case of this in the future I am working on setting up a twitter(?) for polls and such  
> ANYWAY, the purpose of the poll was to see what kind of animagus you guys think Harry should be; Snake, Black Cat, Raven/Crow, or an Owl.
> 
> And if any interest is abound, I do have a discord set up specifically for tomarry and my fics, just shoot me a message if you're interested


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